Smoke and Bones

I found fire
in the walls today.
It crept up the wires
and into the ceiling
where it built itself a home
and ignited the insulation
until only smoke and bones were left.
Here you are again,
all broken and beautiful,
and I can’t tear my eyes away,
so I’ve built these invisible houses
all over the world,
bound brick and mortar
to the earth with every word,
every story I spin,
yet, to you,
I am nothing but
distant and acute agony.
And I live alone
with all of these faces
reading me,
feeling me,
while you stand there
pretending it’s over.




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